


Questions and Kisses

by JustFunctionality (orphan_account)



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Because I can, Exactly What It Says on the Tin, I Blame Tumblr, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-18
Updated: 2015-02-18
Packaged: 2018-03-13 13:14:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3382865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/JustFunctionality
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“John,” said Sherlock, looking up from his book. “Why do people kiss?”<br/>John smiled coyly. “Come here and I’ll show you.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Questions and Kisses

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AdelaideScotts](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AdelaideScotts/gifts), [Midlife_Fan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Midlife_Fan/gifts).



“John,” said Sherlock, looking up from his book ( _Pride and Prejudice and Zombies ___). “Why do people kiss?”  
John smiled coyly. “Come here and I’ll show you.”  
Sherlock stood up, feeling heat rush up his neck and his cheeks. He stumbled his way over to John, jumping lightly over befallen books that were scattered all over the floor.  
John had stood up as well, and was leaning against the table, his arms crossed coolly.  
Sherlock stood still, ramrod straight as he watched John with a calculating glance.  
“Well?” Sherlock said quietly. “Aren’t you going to show me?”  
John smirked and leaned forward, his eyes searching Sherlock’s. They were close- too close, much too close.  
Sherlock counted faint freckles on the bridge of John’s nose. The urge for contact was strong, so strong that Sherlock found himself reaching for John.  
His cold fingers made contact with John’s chin and he pulled John closer into himself with a quiet urgency.  
“Kiss me,” whispered John.  
Sherlock happily obliged, bringing their lips together, their tongues and teeth crashing together with a desperateness.  
It was as if Sherlock had taken classes for this, as he could make John moan and groan just by biting him gently there, his hands just touching lightly _there ___.  
John suddenly turned predatory as he circled his arms around Sherlock’s waist, bringing them as one even more. Sherlock wanted to be closer so badly, despite the fact that they could barely breathe.  
They were two icicles, melting together to form a puddle of emotion through their heat.  
“You’re so noble,” Sherlock said, as he peppered kisses from John’s ear to his throat, sucking gently at the sweet skin there. “Your kind, and then you shoot someone. You’re a mystery, even for me. What makes you so god damned beautiful?”  
John didn’t answer, just ran his fingers through Sherlock’s curls.  
Sherlock’s breath hitched in his throat as John pushed him against the table, and the pain of the edge of the wood cutting into his hip didn’t matter, because it was _so damn worth it. ___  
John was worth all this pain, and the fire that bloomed in Sherlock’s stomach whenever he saw him. He was his everything.

**Author's Note:**

> I don't even know what I just wrote. Well. Anyways. All mistakes are mine (as always), and please tell me my many mistakes. I'll probably work on this a bit more. Probably.


End file.
